


meteor showers in august

by polaroidestiel



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Homophobia, but it's not a theme, girls falling in love, he didn't fit in :/, i guess there's age swap since mila is older than sala, im sorry there's no michele, mila is an art hoe, sala crispino's Big Gay Freak Out, the emil/sala is only for a hot second, there's one scene and then one implied scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-09 00:16:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8868601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polaroidestiel/pseuds/polaroidestiel
Summary: "You turn towards meteor showers in August,wishing yourself like that:bright and burning wholly out."-Jane Hirshfield, "The Falling"Or, the Blue is the Warmest Color au that no one asked for.





	1. un

**Author's Note:**

> even if this is a blue is the warmest color au, you don't need to watch the movie to understand. it's a good movie though, so if you have three hours, i strongly recommend it.
> 
> if you _have_ seen the movie, right now i'm only planning on writing the first half unless this gets a good reaction, then i'll do chaptiere deux too.

Love at first sight is a myth, she decides. It’s not a sudden flash bang moment that makes her reconsider her past ideas and youthful concepts of true love, but a realization that fades as quickly as it appears, not surprising her in the slightest. If anything, it offers an explanation for her inability to grasp onto the concept of romance. Her professor is discussing chance encounters and how one moment can change the course of one’s life. A boy in her class says that if love at first sight existed, it would make him regret not talking to the person. He would cherish every second. The thought passes through Sara’s head that if that were true then maybe he would still be with his ex-girlfriend, or maybe the one before her, or the one before…

 

///

 

Minako, on the other hand, is someone who believes in love at first sight. Or, at least, love at first fuck. Even now, as she’s talking about how much Emil likes Sara, how Sara should _just look! he’s staring at you!_ she’s insinuating more _intimate_ activities for the two to do. Sara has never spoken to Emil, much less decided if she was even interested in him. She tried to picture him in her head but failed to remember much besides an impressive beard and loud voice. She glances over her shoulder and Minako was right, Emil is looking directly at her, a wide grin lighting up his face when she meets his eyes.

“I told you,” Minako announces proudly. “He’s in love with you.”

Sara doesn’t know about that, but when Emil asks her out a few days later, she doesn’t say no.

 

///

 

Sara is crossing the street when she first sees _her_.

She’s tall with soft curves and bright blue eyes. Beside her is a woman who is equally beautiful and Sara’s gaze hones in on the arm wrapped around the latter. But it’s not what Sara will remember. She’ll remember hair the color of a sunset catching the light and bouncing just over her shoulders as she walks in Sara’s direction.

For a split second their eyes meet and Sara’s heart tightens.

It’s a feeling she’s never experienced before and it’s something she definitely didn't feel when she met up with Emil for their date minutes later. It’s something that stays on her mind for the rest of the afternoon; even as Emil kissed up her neck during the movie and she returned it, albeit, without much passion, the red haired woman is in the back of her mind.

At the forefront of her thoughts, though, panicked and impatient, _What is this feeling? Why am I feeling it? What is this feeling? What has she done to me?_

In her dreams, there are flashes of red hair and blue eyes hovering over her. Hands drift feather soft over her skin, barely touching, but still sending electric shocks wherever they brush. Full lips bite at her neck before pressing with fervor against her own. Hands reach up to grasp at her breasts and she gasps as a tongue follows. The hands then trail down, down, down, down, and _oh_. She can feel the smirk as lips and teeth press against her stomach, her chest, her shoulders, leaving marks wherever they touch. The fingers move skillfully, pressing and moving in a way that screams experience. Her lips are caught by a pair of teeth, hot breaths intermingling before soft kisses travel down her torso, a tongue eventually joining the fingers and then they’re gone. 

She’s alone in her bedroom and she can’t identify if the ache in her chest is of relief or disappointment. 

Her heartbeat is erratic and a light sheen of sweat covers her body. She brings her hand in front of her face, finding her fingers sticky and wet, a clear sign of what her body had instinctively known she needed. She doesn’t even have to check to know it’s because of the now painfully sensitive area between her thighs. 

She rubs her hands against her sheets, wiping away any evidence of her dream and pulls her duvet higher.

_She doesn’t believe in love at first sight._

 

///

 

“You had sex, I can smell it.”

Sara has long since stopped trying to understand how or why Minako could sense changes in her friends’ sex lives, but she was wrong in this case and Sara tells her so.

“What do you mean you didn’t have sex?”

Everyone is looking at her and Sara shifts uncomfortably. “We got lunch and went to the movies and he kissed me but that’s it.”

Anya speaks up from beside Minako, “You just didn’t want to put out.”

Sara turns on her heel and announces she’s going inside, no longer wanting to deal with her shallow friends. Emil waves at her to come over from across the yard but Sara only sends him a faint smile before shutting the door behind her. She hears a door open and close behind her, but ignores it, already halfway up the first flight of stairs. At the landing, a hand wraps around her upper arm and she stops.

“Do you just not like me?” Emil questions, his eyes suspect the truth, but it doesn’t show on his face.

Sara shakes her head. She _does_ like him, but probably not in the way he wants. “Then are you mad at me? What did I do wrong?” 

Sara knows that this isn’t his fault she doesn’t like him, it’s hers, but here she is being offered a chance of a normal relationship, a normal life. But she never voices this. Instead, she kisses him.

 

///

 

Sara briefly thinks that the hands in her dream a week ago were better than Emil who is currently thrusting in and of her in an unsteady rhythm. But it’s not _terrible_. The fullness she feels right now is almost addictive and something fingers could never give her, but there’s something wrong, she just can’t pinpoint it.

She pulls him down in a kiss to clear her mind from any thoughts of red hair and he responds eagerly, hips speeding up and lips moving sloppily against hers. He sucks on her neck, beard rubbing against her skin with every thrust. Emil messily flips them over, putting Sara in control. She places her hands on his chest and moves experimentally, testing the new waters to see how it feels. Apparently, she isn't moving fast enough, because Emil thrusts up into her and _wow,_ a moan slips out and she tries to hit that angle again, not finding it until Emil begins to push up, attempting to match her rhythm. Emil sits up, hands on her hips and begins to bounce her at his own pace, slamming her down into his lap and biting her neck. 

When he comes, Sala rolls over beside him, tired and unsatisfied, as he discards the used condom and crawls into bed beside her, arms wrapping around her waist.

“It wasn't good?”

It was short and decent at best, she guesses.

He can’t see the empty dissatisfaction on her face, so she presses her back against his chest.

“It was great.”

 

///

 

Sara is not a stranger to feeling like everything she does is a lie. When her friends gossip about their sexual endeavors, Sara pretends like she knows what they’re talking about. She smiles and nods when they talk about the new cute boy in their class.

But that’s her friends, that’s people she won’t see ever again after next year even if they say otherwise. It’s not her boyfriend who says he loves her (much too early if you ask her) and kisses her and buys her gifts. She’s never been in a relationship so she doesn't know if this is normal or another weird thing about her. Like how when she looks into Emil’s dark blue eyes she thinks of a pair much lighter with red tendrils falling around them.

She tells Leo about her problem in between fits of crying. About how unhappy she is, about how she seems fake whenever they kiss, about how she just wants to break up with him but can’t find the courage to.

Also, she looks horrible and that’s another reason to cry.

“If not for everything else, Emil might break up with you just for that.”

She still feels the underlying guilt about lying her way through a relationship, but it coaxes a laugh out of Sala. It’s not much, but it makes her feel more than she has in a while. It makes her feel normal.

 

///

 

“You didn’t do anything, it’s all my fault. I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you.”

He leaves without protest.

She cries herself to sleep that night.

 

///

 

Sara has never been one for parades or protests, always preferring to stay inside with her journal to write. But Leo suggested the student march and she agreed. Now as she chants and sings with her classmates, she forgets life for a while. 

She doesn’t feel happy or normal, but the loud cheers and music make her forget.


	2. deux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The woman’s name is Mila Babicheva and she’s a graduating art student who believes in bad art shows. She’s just as interesting as Sara imagined, and even more unnervingly sensual than she remembers.

Sara realizes what she’s been missing on a stairwell.

She wasn’t originally planning to make any self-revelations today, only wanting to go home and cry out her self-doubt.

A girl from another class sits down next to her and Sara acknowledges her by looking up from her journal before turning her head back down.

The girl sticks out her hand. “Mari.”

“Sara.”

“Do you like writing, Sara?” the girl asks.

Sara shuts her journal and shrugs. “I’ve always found it relaxing and I don’t hate it, I guess.”

“I could never get my thoughts out of me like the teachers wanted,” Mari says whilst pulling out a cigarette. Sara doesn’t relate, but she nods anyway.

“So you’re studying writing?”

“Literature,” Sara corrects. “And you?”

“Science. I understand logic, not imagery.”

A moment of silence.

“There’s a lot of cute girls in the literature class.”

Sara fiddles with her fingers, “I never really noticed.”

Mari takes a drag of her now lit cigarette and offers it to Sara who hesitantly inhales.

“I guess that makes sense,” at Sara’s confused expression she continues, “Well you’re the prettiest girl in our grade, you probably don’t notice other girls.”

Sara coughs and she doesn’t know if it’s from the smoke or the suddenly increased pace of her heart. But she was half right because Sara didn’t know many girls’ outside of her friends. She didn't even know who Mari was until a few minutes ago.

“I’m not the prettiest girl.” Sara contradicts.

Mari gave her a smile that said she didn’t agree but wasn’t going to argue. Instead, she put out her cigarette and put her hands on Sara’s face. “I think you’re beautiful.”

In less than a second, their lips are connected and all the puzzle pieces come together for Sara. In seemingly no time at all, they separate and Mari stands. “I have to get home, but I’ll see you around, Sara.”  

She leaves Sara to dwell on her new realization with swollen lips and a feeling of true happiness that she hasn’t felt in a while.

That night at dinner as Sara scoops another spoonful of spaghetti onto her plate, her mom pauses eating.

“You look happy. Was it a good day at school?”

For a second, Sara thinks she knows, but her eyes show no sign of contempt, so Sara smiles. “You could say that.” 

 

///

 

The next day, Sala looks everywhere for Mari. However, it’s a task that’s proving to be more difficult than she thought. Luckily, she passes the bathroom at the same time Mari is washing her hands and she walks in, shutting the door behind her.

“Oh, Sara, what’s up?” She seems casual for making Sara have a sexual revelation.

“I’ve been looking for you all day.” Sara blurts.

“Really?” Mari doesn’t seem to understand. “Did you need something?”

In response, Sara surges forward, taking Mari’s face between her hands, slotting their lips together. She returns the kiss, albeit much less enthusiastically than yesterday. Sara moves down, pressing needy kisses down her jawline down to her collarbone, her fingers are tangled in the girl’s hair. Despite it being roughly the same length as Emil’s it’s somehow so much better, and she smells so sweet and Sara can’t get enough of how much softer she is opposed to the few boys she’s kissed. 

Almost immediately, Mari pulls away. “You must have misunderstood me yesterday.”

“I don’t see what there was to misunderstand. I thought your intentions were pretty clear.”

Mari takes a step back. “When I kissed you, it was only for that reason: to kiss you. There were no emotions involved.”

Sara feels her insides twist. “I see.”

“I won’t tell anybody about the kiss, so you don’t have to worry,” Mari says, as she carefully steps around Sara to the door. “I’ll see you around, Sara.”

The door shuts quietly, but it’s the loudest sound Sara’s ever heard.

 

///

 

After Mari lets her down in the bathroom, Sara starts to see the world in a whole new light. A light where suddenly she begins to notice how her eyes always fall on girls when her mind wanders and how it makes sense now why she never understood what was so great about guys. But she can’t like girls. Not with her parents. Not with her friends. She just can’t.

Leo seems to understand what she needs and so that night she finds herself in a gay bar while Leo grinds on his boyfriend mere feet away from her. A sight she’s seen many times, but one she still never enjoys.

The bartender is commenting on the regulars, but Sara is only half listening. Outside the window is a group of women who seem to be getting more and more handsy with each bass thump that echoes through the open door. Sara can’t take her eyes off of them and when they begin to walk away, she follows, magnetized. 

Their drunken stumbling leads her to a lesbian bar. She follows behind them, entranced by the pairs of women locked in embrace or the others pressing sloppy kisses along necks, on cheeks, on lips. She can’t tear her eyes away and within minutes loses sight of the women from before. She continues towards the back, politely declining several advances as she goes. She finally takes a spot at the end of the bar and orders a beer. She feels eyes on her and looks up. It’s the redheaded woman.

Her breath is sucked out of her and she feels the hands from her dream running across her. Her heart is thrumming and there’s a strange feeling in her lower stomach. The woman raises her glass and smiles but Sara hardly realizes, images flashing through her mind at light speed of her hands latched onto soft red hair as softer lips press against her neck, her chest, her-

Fingertips brush her shoulder and Sara breaks eye contact in a daze. Smiling down at her is a girl clearly several years older than her own seventeen years.

“Is this your first time here?” The girl’s voice is kind, if not slightly slurred. At Sara’s confused expression, though, she elaborates.

“You seem lost.” Sara smiles absently, eyes flitting to where the red headed girl was just a few moments before.

Then an arm comes between Sara and the woman and the redheaded girl is standing in front of Sara in all her beauty and Sara is more than a little taken aback.

“Talking to my cousin?” 

“Your…” the woman seems surprised and slowly retreats away. “I’ll go.”

“Be my guest.”

As she walks away, the redhead tells the bartender her order.

“Why are you here all alone?” she asks. Sara shrugs. Now that she is standing in front of the red head, she doesn’t know what to say or how to say it.

“I came in by chance.”

“Chance. Okay.” The woman clearly doesn't believe her.

“This is dyke beer.” She comments, examining Sara’s beer.

“I had no idea.” Sara doesn’t particularly like the three-word conversation dynamic that she’s experiencing, but she’s intimidated by the beautiful woman she saw in the streets months ago. She wonders if the woman can tell that she’s dreamt of her.

“Here, try this.” The woman slides her freshly made drink to Sara who takes a sip.

“What do you think?”

“Honestly?” The woman nods. “You won’t be upset?” A smile and a head shake.

“It’s gross.”

The woman laughs and takes her drink back. “You know, we don’t really get your type here often?”

“And what type am I?” Sara takes a sip of her beer in a way she hopes screams confident.

“Underage.” 

Sara does her best to not look alarmed. “How do you know I’m underage?”

“I can tell.” she takes a sip of her drink. “Or maybe you’re a straight girl who wants to experiment.”

Sara shakes her head and the two begin talking.

The woman’s name is Mila Babicheva and she’s a graduating art student who believes in bad art shows. She’s just as interesting as Sara imagined, and even more unnervingly sensual than she remembers. She stores away every laugh and smile away in the back of her mind and tries to push away the image of the way she plays with her straw in her mouth and how her tongue swipes across her lips- her brain doesn’t need any more references for her dreams to elaborate on. Eventually, Mila’s friends appear to whisk Mila away to another bar. On her way out, Mila presses her lips against Sara’s cheeks in parting and asks for the name of her school. Sara watches her leave and tries to not think about how her lips are just as soft as she thought they would be and how when Mila smiled at her it was if she was the only one in the room. Their conversation passed by too quickly to mean anything, but Sara hopes that Mila is sitting in a bar somewhere thinking the same thought that she is. Thinking that it wouldn’t be too terrible to spend the rest of her life with someone like her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't like this chapter at all, but i had to write it to get to the actual plot :/
> 
> [follow me on tumblr!](http://yamamotoakane.tumblr.com)   
>  [i'm on twitter too](http://www.twitter.com/saltkishima)

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on tumblr](http://yamamotoakane.tumblr.com)   
>  [also on twitter!](http://www.twitter.com/saltkishima)


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